Past Lives
by Rhadeya
Summary: Riddick relives his time in SLAM... Please R&R
1. Memories

Title: Past Lives

Vindom: Pitch Black

Rating: M (for bad language)

Summary: Riddick re-lives his time in SLAM….

Disclaimer: Riddick doesn't belong to me, nor do the events of PB, however much I wish they did. I do own Lena, and the situations I put her and Riddy into. I'm doing this for love, not money so please don't sue me, as I'm skint enough already :grin:

Author's notes: Found this and thought I'd put it back up

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><p><em><strong>1. Memories<strong>_

_A scream in the night, eerie and pulsing. Stopping in his tracks, Riddick stared in fascination at the creature that landed before him. Ever since he'd had the surgical "shine-job" on his eyes, he had seen things so much differently. It was one of the many, and varied, reasons he was such an adept hunter. Another cry. The same strange, undulating sound. It was trying to locate him, he realised with a smile, stepping into its blind spot and swaying in time with it. It was obvious the beast was perplexed and maybe slightly frustrated, it could probably smell his blood but could not see him as he stood in its blindspot. Eventually it appeared to tire of its quest and Riddick wondered if its hunger might be getting stronger, it could almost certainly sense what its own kind were doing. The mating and killing frenzy was nearing fever pitch, he wondered if it would soon be at its peak, and this one appeared not to want to waste any more time on something it could not find. It turned its head, apparently intent on making its way back to the main group of its own kind._

_Without warning another landed a few feet away and shouted, alerting its companion to something out of place. The first turned its head, emitting a seeking pulse. Suddenly Riddick knew it saw him, its tone changed, but it didn't move for a moment, staring at him. Strong survival instinct. He wondered if the creature admired that but knew it was going to kill him anyway, new meat was apparently always welcome. It moved forward, its jaws opening as it made ready to strike the killing blow but it did not seem recognise the object held in Riddick's hand, a razor sharp shiv. He realised it probably knew nothing of weapons until the shiv sliced its belly open, its blue blood mixing with the muddy rainwater as its intestines fell from the wound. It lashed out with its claws, raking Riddick's body, the smell of fresh blood strong in the air, its hunger apparently overriding any pain it might be feeling. It lunged toward him with startling speed but Riddick was ready for it and side stepped, though the movement caused him an intense pain. He suppressed a curse as fresh blood began to seep from the large, ragged gash running the length of his left thigh. As the creature passed him, his hand twisted and the shiv found its mark once more, slicing deep into the beast's injured belly, striking a fatal blow. Riddick watched as the creature collapsed into the mud, its legs thrashing as its life seeped into the earth below it, washed away with the rain. A sadistic smile twisted Riddick's features as he watched its thrashing getting weaker, his eyes slightly hooded as the creature finally died._

_"Didn't know who it was fucking with," the words were little more than a growl, his gaze disdainful._

_A high pitched keening broke the silence of the grisly tableau, the other creature mourning its companions passing even as its own hunger forced it to move closer, the desperate urge to feed over-powering it. Riddick turned to look at it as it approached, the humanity Carolyn had raised in him pushed away, buried as his animalistic side took control once more. Fire ran in his veins and he tasted his own blood as he ran his tongue over his cracked lips, his hands twitching as the other creature approached. The thrill of the kill had him now, his pain receding as the predator in him took control, watching the beast as a wolf watches its prey, his silver eyes shining in the darkness. A slight snarl escaped Riddick's lips as the creature came within striking distance, never standing a chance against the animal rage controlling the human. The creature managed to strike once at Riddick before it too fell victim to his vicious nature. As he stared down at it, a noise caused him to turn slightly, away from the 'street' behind him, his attention momentarily diverted. There, a voice, calling his name._

_Carolyn._

_She was calling to him, trying to locate him._

_"Go back Carolyn," he begged, the words catching in his throat, emerging as little more than a whisper. A quiet rustling sound behind him made his heart sink, fear beginning to rise in him as he turned, coming almost face to face with another of this planet's murderous inhabitants. His own murderous side rose up, taking control of him before he could stop it, his hand tightening around the shiv as he raised it, making ready to fight… to the death if necessary. The creature advanced towards him, stalking past its fallen brethren as it focused solely on Riddick, the smell of his blood filling its senses until it could think of nothing else._

_It had to taste his blood, his flesh._

_It struck with impossible speed, aiming its razor sharp teeth at Riddick's head, but the human was ready for it, stepping away at the last moment. The creature missed its mark, but only just, its teeth grazing Riddick's shoulder when he didn't move far enough, fast enough. The beast heard the hiss of pain from its prey and it raised its head, uttering a trill of exhilaration at its victory. The boast gave Riddick the opening he had been seeking and he struck, the creature's triumphant call cut short as the shiv sliced across its throat. Time seemed to warp as he watched it die slowly, the seconds stretching out into what seemed like an eternity. He knew more would follow these but he couldn't move, mesmerised by the beast's vain struggle to survive the fatal wounds he had inflicted. He knew in that moment hat he would never leave this place, that the blood fever would conquer him completely and he would die here, fighting these things until the last breath was torn from his body._

_Before he knew what was happening, he was on his back in the mud. He readied himself to fight but what he saw before him stunned him. Carolyn, soaked to the skin from the rain, and their earlier encounter, holding out her hand and telling him to get up. He didn't take in her words, but he knew their meaning, they had to go before the creatures caught up with them. With her help, he staggered to his feet, pain shooting through his leg as he tried to put weight on it. The pain was too much, too intense, and he fell again, landing face first in the mud and staying there, unable to move, his energy gone. He heard her shouting something but it didn't register for a moment._

_"I said I'd die for them, not for you!" the words echoed round his mind for an endless moment before she said something else to him. She was telling him he had to get up, had to keep moving. She didn't want to die here, any more than Jack and the holy man had, but he couldn't get up, his whole being was drained, he had nothing left. Her shout penetrated the hazy fog clouding his mind, cutting through it like he had sliced those creatures with his shiv. She finally managed to pull him to his feet and stood still for a moment, supporting him as she looked into his eyes. He couldn't believe what he saw there… Tenderness, fear and a hint of something else, something he hadn't seen for a long time, not since his stay in Slam._

_LOVE_

_Suddenly her expression changed to one of shock, stunned agony, as she stiffened in his arms. He stared at her, not wanting to believe what he knew to be happening. And then she was gone, torn out of his embrace by the creature who had impaled her on its claws. He watched as she was pulled into the darkness, until she was out of sight, before he fell to his knees in the mud, reaching after her._

_"Not for me! Not for me!" his voice was desolate, filled with agony, as he repeated the words she'd said to him moments before as her face swam before him, obscuring his vision..._

He jerked awake, aware he had cried those words out loud while he thrashed in his sleep. He glanced over his shoulder, heaving a silent sigh of relief as he saw Jack was still fast asleep, her slumber undisturbed by his nightmares. They were the same every night; he'd lost count of the amount of times he'd been forced to watch Carolyn die, no more able to help her now than he had been then. He closed his eyes, laying back into the pilot's chair once more, aware that the chair, and himself were soaked with his sweat. He memory of the agony in Carolyn's eyes haunted him, made his gut twist inside out as he went over every detail of those fateful few hours, torturing himself that maybe he could have saved her. He slowed his breathing, trying to calm his turbulent emotions, knowing he could no more have saved Carolyn than he could have saved Lena. As soon as he thought the name, her face appeared before him and he opened his eyes, stunned to find himself back in Slam...


	2. SLAM

Title: Past Lives

Vindom: Pitch Black

Rating: M (for bad language)

Summary: Riddick re-lives his time in SLAM….

Disclaimer: Riddick doesn't belong to me, nor do the events of PB, however much I wish they did. I do own Lena, and the situations I put her and Riddy into. I'm doing this for love, not money so please don't sue me, as I'm skint enough already :grin:

Author's notes: Found this and thought I'd put it back up

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><p><em><strong>2. SLAM<strong>_

A chain rattled in the darkness as two men, carrying another between them, entered a large room. Their clothing and weapons identified them as guards of **SLAM**, the harshest prison in the galaxy, known for being the last resting place of the most notorious killers the human race had seen since they had begun the exploration of deep space. A fourth man entered the room behind them, his blue eyes cold as he ran his hand over a small patch of the rough stone wall, activating a light to illuminate the stark cell that was the new home for Richard B Riddick, newly convicted of murder. The two men dropped Riddick to the floor, chains still binding his hands and feet. They moved back towards the entrance as the fourth man stared down with distain at the prisoner, his eyes amused as he ran his hand through his short dark blonde hair.

"Welcome to your new home Riddick," he laughed, though his voice betrayed his disgust as he said the prisoner's name. With deliberate malice he walked up to the prone captive, planting his boot squarely in Riddick's ribs, driving the air from the lungs of his prisoner and laughing harshly as the murderer gasped for breath. He delivered several more kicks to various parts of Riddick's body with a perverse pleasure, noticing the sharp intake of breath as his boot connected with the murderer's shoulder. He spun on his heel and walked to the entrance of the cell, stepping outside and pressing a button on a small device in his hand, the cuffs coming away from Riddick's wrists and ankles as thick metal bars slid into place across the entrance, sealing him into his new home. With a final disgusted glance at the prisoner he had spent the past year chasing, William Johns walked away content that this distasteful part of his life was finally over.

Silence descended within the cramped cell, the sound of water dripping slowly onto stone and laboured breathing the only noises permeating the quiet. Riddick remained still for some time, his chest on fire as the pain of his broken ribs shot through him with each difficult intake of stale air. A soft growl escaped him as he slowly rolled onto his front, biceps straining beneath bruised skin as he pushed his aching body away from the cold floor, knees coming up under him as he forced himself into a sitting position. Head bent with exhaustion his eyes fell upon the restraints on the floor in front of him, and his bloodied lips curled into a snarl. He picked them up and looked at them for a brief moment, the clatter of metal hitting stone echoing around the cell as he flung them hard against the wall. Remaining still, he listened to the noises around him, filing each one away in case he needed them in the future. Water dripping, the hesitant scuffling of rats, the hushed mumbling of other prisoners, guards in the distance, a sudden pain filled scream cut abruptly short. Knowing he could do nothing to hasten his departure from his current surroundings in his injured state, Riddick lowered himself back down onto the stone floor, the cold against his skin barely noticed as he allowed himself the luxury of a deep, restful sleep.

A dull ache and a strange sound roused Riddick from his deep slumber, fragments of dream swirling around in his mind as he slowly opened his eyes. A slight sigh escaped his lips as he recalled the events of the past few days, a deep sense of disgust filling him as he looked around his small cell.

"Nothing's fuckin changed," his voice sounded strange to his ears, distant and rough, as though unused for a long time. He could still taste the rubber of the bit he had been forced to wear during his transportation to his current hell, could still feel the shackles around his wrists and ankles. Shaking his head, he remained on the floor, willing the oblivion of sleep to claim him once more. The ache in his chest and stomach began to grow, his head feeling oddly light as he pushed himself into a sitting position. Gingerly he touched his fingers to his chest, wincing slightly as broken ribs protested vehemently at his prodding. Cursing under his breath, he realised his left shoulder was dislocated, probably from one of the many kicks John's had inflicted. _"Wonder if I can put it back in myself?"_ he wondered idly, looking around the cell.

He froze as voices became audible, two men and a woman, the sounds growing clearer though their words were muffled. A slight hiss announced their arrival at his cell, the bars sliding back to reveal three guards. The men were the same ones who had deposited him in the cell the previous night, but they were of little interest to Riddick as the third guard entered the room. Clear blue eyes looked him up and down, wariness and a hint of curiosity showing clearly as she appraised him. Nodding to the two men, she ran a delicate hand through her short cropped dark, curly hair; her face showing signs of exhaustion. He gaze her the same appraisal she had given him as the other two guards fastened the shackles to his wrists and ankles once more. He noted with interest that the SLAM uniform accentuated her figure; his hands itching to follow the curve of her hips, to slide up and caress her well-rounded breasts or move down and cup her firm buttocks…

The woman turned and walked from the room, her two colleagues leading Riddick after her. As they passed down the dank passageways, Riddick watched the swaying hips of the woman in front of him, vivid fantasies coming to life in his mind of what he would like to do should he ever find himself alone with this particular guard…


	3. Dr Lena Jacobs

Title: Past Lives

Vindom: Pitch Black

Rating: M (for bad language)

Summary: Riddick re-lives his time in SLAM….

Disclaimer: Riddick doesn't belong to me, nor do the events of PB, however much I wish they did. I do own Lena, and the situations I put her and Riddy into. I'm doing this for love, not money so please don't sue me, as I'm skint enough already :grin:

Author's notes: Found this and thought I'd put it back up

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><p><em><strong>3 .Dr Lena Jacobs<strong>_

The party entered a large, brightly lit room and Riddick stopped suddenly, the stringent smell of antiseptic making him gag slightly. The guards escorting him pulled him forward, dumping him unceremoniously on a large, black leather bench. The shackles remained in place as the guards exited the room, leaving the murderer alone with the object of his recent fantasies.

"Lay down Mr Riddick," although softly spoken, the words carried no hint of a request; she expected him to do exactly what she told him to do, and without any arguments. One eyebrow cocked in mild interest at her words, Riddick did as she asked, broken bones and bruised muscles sending sharp stabs of pain through his body as he tried to get comfortable. Stretching his arms above his head, he moved his hands apart, deliberately testing the heavy restraints in an attempt to make the woman nervous. He relaxed onto the table as he saw the amused grin she wore, knowing that for the time being he wasn't going to get a reaction out of her. The leather felt cool against his skin, a fact that intrigued him given the overly warm temperature of the room.

He glanced around the room as he waited for the guard the finish whatever she was doing, noting that the table across from him appeared to be one complete piece. "_Nothin to break off and use as a weapon_," he thought wryly. The whitewashed walls and the plain furniture were a stark contrast to the other occupant of the room, helping to accentuate her subtle feminism. The two female guards at The Tangiers Penal Colony he had initially been sent to after he had been convicted, had been pretty but neither had had the distinct female aura this one had. Although she played the role of a hard-as-nails prison guard to perfection, Riddick was in no doubt that any red-blooded heterosexual male would want to satisfy his every sexual desire with her.

Eyes narrowed slightly, he watched the guard approach him, as a predator watches its prey.

"I'm Dr Lena Jacobs and I'm going to have a look at your injuries," she explained as she expertly examined his obvious injuries, deftly applying a soothing cream over the angry purple bruises. Pressing gently over his stomach and hips, she watched him intently for any sign of pain caused by her probing. She stopped several times when she saw even the tiniest hint of a flinch, her expression becoming more and more cold as she carried out her examination.

"Bastard!" Muttered under her breath, Riddick almost missed the single curse but the hatred in her tone was unmistakable.

"Love you too," he laughed at her, hissing slightly as she touched a particularly sensitive spot and a stab of pain shot through his lower body.

"What?" she demanded, her gaze fixing angrily on him for a moment before a small smile began tugging at her full lips. "You heard that? It wasn't actually directed at you Mr Riddick," she informed him, piquing his curiosity as to whom the curse had been directed at.

"So who were you talkin to then Doc? There ain't no-one else in the room y'know,"

"No, really? I would never have guessed we were alone in here if you hadn't told me Mr Riddick," Tone laden with sarcasm, she cast an amused glance at him before turning away and walking over to the plain wooden desk. Her expression startled slightly, she looked up as he began to laugh, the deep baritone boom echoing around the empty room.

"OK, you're going to feel a little scratch…" she told him as she returned to his side, deftly inserting a syringe into his right thigh. He tensed for a moment, top lip curled into a snarl, before relaxing back onto the examination table with a small sigh.

Darkness began to envelop him as the strong painkiller she had given him swiftly took effect. As the pain of his injuries ebbed away, he fought to remain awake, not trusting himself to sleep in such alien surroundings. However, his body, finally released from the pain, seemed to have other ideas and he gradually inched closer and closer to the restful, healing sleep he so desperately needed to recover. As the oblivion of sleep finally pulled him down, he thought he heard the doctor say "Sleep well Richard" but he couldn't be sure…


	4. A Bit of TLC

Title: Past Lives

Vindom: Pitch Black

Rating: M (for bad language)

Summary: Riddick re-lives his time in SLAM….

Disclaimer: Riddick doesn't belong to me, nor do the events of PB, however much I wish they did. I do own Lena, and the situations I put her and Riddy into. I'm doing this for love, not money so please don't sue me, as I'm skint enough already :grin:

Author's notes: Found this and thought I'd put it back up

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><p><em><strong>4. A Bit of TLC….<strong>_

Reality began to seep back into Riddick's mind as he slowly regained consciousness, and with it came a resurgence of pain from his battered body. A low moan escaped his lips before he could suppress it, his mind registering that he was not in his cell, and trying to tell his body to remain still and silent. Within seconds he heard footsteps coming in his direction and forced himself to stay still, as he suddenly realised he no longer wore any restraints. As a hand gently touched his forehead, he saw his chance and wrapped his hand around the slender wrist, his grip vice-like as he hauled himself off the table. Pulling the woman close to him, he pressed his hand around her throat and glanced quickly around the room, looking for anything that could aid his escape. A slight smile tugged at his lips as he realised who his hostage was; Lena Jacobs, the doctor who had treated his injuries earlier that day.

"Don't try to scream," he growled quietly into her ear, startled when she began to laugh. The sound was slight distorted due to the pressure he was putting on her windpipe, but it was laughter nonetheless.

"And just what do you think you're going to do Mr Riddick?" she wanted to know, her tone heavily laced with amusement.

"Get the fuck outta here!"

"Of course you are. Needless to say, you know where you are and where to go to get out right? And what, you think you're just gonna walk right past the heavily armed guards?"

"Nah, I'm gonna use you as a shield," he informed her coldly.

"Yeah, sure you are. And you think you're fit to leave?"

"Yes!" he whispered the single word in her ear, his grip on her throat tightening slightly to make his point.

"Really?" she wheezed. With one swift movement, she rammed her elbow backwards into his badly broken ribs, stepping away from him as the pressure on her neck abruptly ceased. She watched him for a moment as he sank to his knees, impressed by the lack of any verbal sign of his pain. His face, however, showed how much pain he was in, and Lena felt a sudden pang of something akin to sympathy for the man. The feeling was short lived, as Riddick darted towards her, his expression murderous. Side stepping his advance easily, she countered by slamming her fist into his recently dislocated shoulder, watching with amusement as he dropped to the floor once more, his right hand covering the damaged shoulder protectively.

"Are you finished Mr Riddick?" she asked haughtily, her patience beginning to wear thin.

"Bitch!" he muttered angrily.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she laughed, crossing to his side and slipping her arm around his upper torso. "When you've recovered form your injuries, then you can feel free to try and escape. Until then, you're my patient so I want no more of this foolishness. OK?" Her eyes bored into his, searching for something. Smiling slightly at the almost imperceptible nod of his head, she helped him back onto the examination table. Taking another syringe from her desk, she quickly gave him another dose of painkiller, knowing it would knock him out again and allow his body to heal.

Taking one last look at the injuries of her patient, Lena walked over to the door and opened it, speaking quietly to the guard posted outside.

"I want you to find Mr Johns and bring him to see me as soon as possible, understand?" her voice was ice cold as she gave her the young man her instructions. "Do not let him leave this prison until I have spoken to him." She closed the door with a little more force than she intended, struggling to contain her fury and disgust she felt towards the merc.

As Riddick slowly succumbed to the painkiller, he hoped he would be awake again in time to see the _discussion_ between Jacobs and Johns…


	5. Jacobs Vs Johns

Title: Past Lives

Vindom: Pitch Black

Rating: M (for bad language)

Summary: Riddick re-lives his time in SLAM….

Disclaimer: Riddick doesn't belong to me, nor do the events of PB, however much I wish they did. I do own Lena, and the situations I put her and Riddy into. I'm doing this for love, not money so please don't sue me, as I'm skint enough already :grin:

Author's notes: Found this and thought I'd put it back up

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><p><em><strong>5. Jacobs vs. Johns<strong>_

Sitting quietly at her desk, Lena reviewed the file on Richard B Riddick and sighed. She knew who he was, what he was, but it didn't alter the fact that she was furious with Johns for the convict's current condition. Personal feelings aside, she was first and foremost a doctor, it was her sworn duty to help those who needed help, no matter who they were. In her role as chief medical officer at SLAM, she often saw the horrific injuries the inmates inflicted upon each other, but it still angered her to see injuries like Riddick's, inflicted by an apprehending officer. _"Apprehending officer? He's no better than a fucking merc, and they're low life scum!"_ A knock at the door interrupted her musing and she glared as the door swung open to admit a tall man, with sandy coloured hair and ice blue eyes. _"Blood shot eyes and sunken features. Addict"_ she decided silently, her expression hard as she appraised the police officer standing in front of her.

"Mr Johns," she guessed, her tone deceptively soft.

"Yeah. And you are?" he queried, glancing across at the unconscious man on the exam table. "You should have him restrained y'know."

"The choice of whether or not to restrain my patients is mine Mr Johns, not yours."

"I know him, _nurse_. He's an animal," he told her, his voice condescending.

"Really? Well, when you've completed 4 years of medical training, and then worked in the facility as a doctor for 6 years, 3 of those as chief medical officer, I might be inclined to listen to your opinion of how I treat my patients. Until then, keep your _observations_ to yourself!" she informed him sweetly, smiling dangerously.

"You're a doctor?"

"Yes Mr Johns, I am. And you're a drug addict!" she snapped, her patience begin to wear a little thin at his arrogant, dismissive attitude. "He's heavily sedated, due to the severity of his injuries, which is what I wanted to talk to you about…"

Keeping her expression neutral, she felt a momentary surge of smugness when he flinched at her addict comment. _"Arrogant bastard!"_ Getting to her feet, she came around to the other side of her desk, until she was practically toe-to-toe with the tall officer. At the petite height of 5' 5", Johns towered above her and he tried to use the difference to his advantage. The look of slight boredom she allowed to spread over her face told him she wasn't intimidated by him, and he relaxed his posture a little.

"I don't know about you, but I personally treat people the way I would expect to be treated. As a doctor, I often see the violence one inmate can inflict on another. However, I can't recall the last time I saw injuries like his," she pointed over her shoulder at Riddick. "When a felon was in custody. Care to tell me how the hell he got them?"

"He resisted arrest," came the abrupt answer, the closed expression on his face telling Lena the officer wasn't going to give up information lightly.

"Really? Well, I have it on good authority that the majority of these injuries were in fact sustained last night… inside his cell!" she snarled, her fury finally boiling over. "How dare you attack an unarmed, restrained man? Only a coward behaves in the way you have done. You're a sick bastard Officer Johns, and you will pay for your actions!"

"So? What do ya think you're gonna do about it?"

"I think I'll have a little _chat_ with your commanding officer. I'm sure he would be fascinated to know how one of his officers kicked the shit out of a man in restraints," she threatened, a malicious smile tugging at her lips. The look of disbelief on his face nearly made Lena laugh out loud, but she managed to keep her amusement firmly under wraps. "Now, get the hell out of my treatment room!"

Still groggy from the sedative he had been given, Riddick remained silent as he listened to the current goings on in the room. While he doubted anything would ever come of Johns' treatment of a convicted murderer, he was enjoying the threats the good doctor was making. The way she was tearing strips off him was almost worth the pain of his injuries. _"Doubt he fully understands how angry she really is,"_ he thought to himself, hiding a smile as he heard Johns stomp from the room, slamming the door behind him. _"One day Johns… one day, I'll go for your sweet spot…"_ he promised silently.


	6. The Execution of William Johns

Title: Past Lives

Vindom: Pitch Black

Rating: M (for bad language)

Summary: Riddick re-lives his time in SLAM….

Disclaimer: Riddick doesn't belong to me, nor do the events of PB, however much I wish they did. I do own Lena, and the situations I put her and Riddy into. I'm doing this for love, not money so please don't sue me, as I'm skint enough already :grin:

Author's notes: Found this and thought I'd put it back up

* * *

><p><em><strong>6. The execution of William Johns<strong>_

Striding back into her treatment room, Lena caught herself just as she was about to slam the door. Taking a deep breath, she quietly closed the door behind her and glanced over at the exam table, a smile playing at her lips as her eyes met Riddick's. Neither moved nor spoke for several minutes, remaining still and silent as they studied each other carefully. Finally, Lena smiled and moved slowly towards her desk, breaking the tableau.

"How are you this morning, Mr Riddick?" she asked softly, her voice filled with a genuine interest in his well-being.

"Better. You drugged me…" Neither question nor accusation, it was merely a statement of fact.

"Yes, I did. Your body needs sleep in order to heal."

"So, guess I'm back to my cell now huh?"

"Not just yet, no. Another day or so and you'll be released from my care, then you go back to your cell." Her soft laughter drifted to his ears, making Riddick smile in response. She turned back to her work, leaving Riddick to his own thoughts.

Eyes narrowed slightly, Riddick watched the doctor sit down at her desk and pick up a patient file. He wasn't sure she was being wholly honest with him, but every moment he was out of his cell gave him a little taste of the freedom he would enjoy when he finally managed to escape. Life without shackles, without a horse bit in his mouth and broken bones, courtesy of William Johns. He'd spent most of his life behind bars, whether physical or metaphorical, so freedom was something of novelty. His time at the Tangiers Penal Colony had been vaguely amusing, especially the way he had almost managed to get one of the female guards to help him escape. Then Johns had turned up, spoiled his plans and transported him here, to Ursa Luna, aka Slam City. And now, here he was, being treated by a woman who seemed to hate Johns as much as he did.

The irony of the situation was not lost on him.

Sighing softly, he lay back against the cool leather of the exam table and closed his eyes. A faint rustling caught his attention, combined with a sudden feeling of mild fear in the air. He stayed still, outwardly appearing totally relaxed while every inch of his body was ready to react in a split second, should the need arise. A slight pressure on his chest made his eyes snap open and he reacted instantly, curled his fingers around the delicate hand laid against his skin. His mouth curved into a predatory smile as he focused on the good doctor, his eyes scanning her quickly. His breathing quickened as his gaze moved over her, noticing the top two buttons of her blouse were undone. The angle of her body, as she bent over him, caused the fabric to part, giving a glimpse of ample breasts. One eyebrow arched upwards as he raised his eyes and met her gaze, the hunger in her ocean blue eyes matching his own. He eased his grip on her hand, allowing her to continue her caress as one arm snaked round her waist, the other slipping around the back of her head. He needed to apply no real pressure as he pulled her head down, claiming her lips with his, as her hands continued to explore his naked torso.

Releasing her for a moment, he swiftly rose to his feet and turned to face her. Placing his hands on her hips, he lifted her easily and sat her on the exam table, pushing her back until she was laying flat. Slowly moving above her, he placed his legs on either side of her hips, straddling her as he reached down and expertly undid the remaining buttons on her blouse. Parting the fabric, he smiled appreciatively at the sight which greeted him, his hands moving hungrily up her torso. _"A front fastening bra…" _he thought smugly, undoing the tiny clasp with ease. His hands moved the bra away quickly, coming back to claim his prize. With a gentleness no one would believe him capable of, he tenderly caressed her breasts as his head came down and his lips claimed hers once more…

A faint beeping sound snapped him back to reality and he sighed quietly, a mysterious smile on his lips as he wondered if he would ever get the chance to make the fantasy a reality. He was a little disappointed when he saw Lena check her pager, then get to her feet and head towards the door.

"Going somewhere Doc?"

"Yeah. I have to go to a disciplinary hearing. I'll be back in a few hours. Try to get some rest," she advised, the smug look on her face piquing his curiosity. Nodding his agreement to her request, he watched her leave and wondered who the person being disciplined might be.

Taking a seat at the oak table in the small meeting room, Lena looked at the older man to her left and inclined her head in greeting. A quick glance around the room allowed her to acquaint herself with the other parties who were to be involved in this hearing. The man to her left was Chief Inspector Richard Shea, head of the Police force in this sector of space. Beside him sat General Colin Anderson, head of Special Forces. Next came Thomas Marks, Head Warden of the Ursa Luna facility, and finally there was Faith Larnia, the Acting Chief Warden of Tangiers Penal Colony. The other four members of the disciplinary panel had already been given her report, but still wished to clarify her assessment before they proceeded.

"Dr Jacobs," Faith began, "can you tell us the exact extent of Mr Riddick's injuries please."

"Certainly. His injuries consist of five broken ribs, a fractured collarbone, dislocated left shoulder, severe bruising to his entire torso and a hairline fracture of his pelvis."

"Could these injuries have been sustained during transit Doctor?" Shea wanted to know.

"No, these are all recent injuries, sustained within the last 36 hours. As Mr Riddick has been in this facility for 48, he can only have gotten them here."

"Record show that the prisoner was in the holding pen for approx 12 hours, and then transferred to his cell. Are you telling us that these injuries were sustained once he had been moved to his cell?" General Anderson asked, his eyes boring into her.

"Yes General, they were."

"Very well. Thank you Doctor," Shea said, turning to the rest of the panel. "So, severe injuries sustained after the prisoner was moved to his cell, combined with the testimony of a well respected guard, who tells us Officer Johns deliberately inflicted them while the prisoner was still in restraints."

"Regardless of who the prisoner is, this kind of behaviour cannot be condoned. We have only one choice," Thomas told them. Turning to the guard at the door, he issued his order. "Please bring in Officer Johns." All five people watched as William Johns entered the room, giving a crisp salute to his commanding officer, and also to his previous one. Coming to stand in front of the table, opposite CI Shea, he stood at ease and waited for them to speak.

"William Johns, it is the finding of this panel that you have acted improperly towards an inmate of this facility." Shea told him, his tone formal. "Regardless of who the prisoner is, we cannot condone your behaviour. On the charge of conduct unbecoming a Law Enforcement Officer, we find you guilty. As of this moment, you are relieved of your position, and all the privileges associated with it. You are ordered to surrender your badge and your weapon immediately."

"Yes Sir," Johns replied, taking his weapon from its holster and laying on the table, his badge placed beside it a moment later.

"Please escort Mr Johns from the facility," Thomas advised the guard at the door, watching as the former police officer left the room. "Thank you for your time, Dr Jacobs," he finished.

"Gentlemen, Ms Larnia." Nodding to the others, she took her leave and headed back to her treatment room, satisfied that William Johns would be causing no more trouble for Richard B Riddick…


End file.
